


Cream Filled Treat

by Lucifleur



Series: Loving with All Our Hearts [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ass to Mouth, Don't copy to other sites, Established Relationship, Food Porn, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Inflation, M/M, Rimming, Submissive Crowley (Good Omens), slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-01-15 08:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21250667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifleur/pseuds/Lucifleur
Summary: Aziraphale teases Crowley throughout dinner, keeping him on edge, before taking home for... dessert. (Crowley is dessert, and he is delicious (actually, they have dessert at the restaurant, but you know))





	1. Amuse Bouche

**Author's Note:**

> Contains Aziraphale giving Crowley some kinda pastry cream enema, and then eating it out of him with sloppy tongue-fucking, so stick with me for chapter 2 if you're into that kind of thing

Crowley shifted in his seat, hoping the waitstaff didn’t notice anything. Well, he could miracle it so they didn’t, but what would be the fun in that? The little vibrator hummed away inside him, and Aziraphale smiled at him with a twinkle in his eyes as he licked some gravy off his fork. It was bordering on obscene, really, the way the angel’s pink tongue slid along the tines of the fork, chasing the last drops of flavor. He was surely doing it on purpose. Crowley’s jacket was folded on top of his crossed legs, concealing the erection tenting his trousers. Aziraphale sat back in his chair, smiling mildly at him as he toyed with the remote control, which was disguised as a ring. Crowley swallowed, curling his fingers on the tablecloth as the vibrations ramped up, then reduced in intensity. Their waiter came back and picked up their empty plates.

“Was everything to your satisfaction?”

“Oh yes, we’re very satisfied, thank you,” said Aziraphale, smiling. Crowley ground his teeth together as the vibrations increased once more. He was definitely doing this on purpose, the bastard. 

“And would you like a dessert menu?”

“I would love a dessert menu,” said Aziraphale, smiling sweetly, folding his hands in his lap, and subtly turning the vibrator up even higher. Crowley tensed in his seat, very nearly squeaking, but managing to turn it into a cough. The waiter looked at him for a moment, then looked back to Aziraphale. 

“I’ll be right back, then,” they said, disappearing. Aziraphale fiddled with the ring, and the vibrator pulsed. Crowley ground the heel of his hand against his crotch, shifting his hips slightly. 

“Angel, this is torture,” he hissed under his breath. Aziraphale smiled wider. 

“Would you like me to turn it off, my dear?” he said casually, as though he wasn’t currently driving him mad with desire. Crowley squirmed. Did he want Aziraphale to turn it off? Yes, no. Not yet, anyway. 

“Angellll,” he drawled, doing his best to imitate the pout that Aziraphale had mastered back in the 1600s. Hopefully they would soon be back in flat above the bookshop, which was getting rather crowded with plants these days. 

“You can wait a little longer, can’t you? For me?” said Aziraphale, blinking innocently at him. “We haven’t even had dessert yet.” Crowley tilted his head and sighed melodramatically. 

“Anything for you, angel,” he said, as the waiter returned and handed them dessert menus. Crowley uncrossed his legs as Aziraphale perused the menu, then crossed his legs again, squeezing the little toy buzzing away, nudging against his prostate. It sounded loud inside his head, but surely no one else could hear it. Right? He was startled out of his reverie as Aziraphale piped up.   
“I’ll have the chocolate petite gateau. Crowley?” he said. Crowley looked up. 

“Oh, I’ll just,” said Crowley, waving a hand noncommittally.

“And two forks, please,” Aziraphale smiled, handing the menu back. The waiter nodded and disappeared once more. Crowley pulled out his phone, opened some stupid time-waster of a game and poked at the screen idly for a few minutes. The vibrations of the toy increased suddenly, startling him, and his character died in a splat of red. A window popped up to ask him if he wanted to use a continue, five of which could be purchased for ninety-nine pence. Had Crowley been responsible for those things? Microtransactions? He couldn’t remember. In any case, he looked up from his phone and fixed Aziraphale with an accusatory eyebrow raise. Aziraphale looked at him mildly, feigning confusion. “Yes, alright,” he said, turning his phone off. 

The waiter reappeared and set a plate on the table along with two forks, then politely departed. Aziraphale rubbed his hands together in anticipatory delight. The petite gateau was comprised of several layers of chocolate desert items, a cake, a fudge, a wafer and so on, and topped with whipped cream. Aziraphale took a careful forkful of it and let it slide onto his tongue, closing his eyes to better appreciate the tastes and textures. He shivered and sighed, letting his tongue flick out of his mouth to catch some whipped cream on his upper lip. Crowley felt his cock throb, and he blushed. Aziraphale noticed, because of course he did, the bastard, and gave a self-satisfied wiggle before taking another bite. He moaned, staring hard at Crowley and smiling deviously, his eyes alight. 

“The things you do to me, angel,” Crowley muttered.

“And you take them all so well, my darling,” Aziraphale said sweetly, but with a husky undercurrent. “Always indulging me so patiently.”

“Well, what can I say?” said Crowley, aiming for unaffected and missing rather badly. “You know, sometimes I wonder if you were made to experience pleasure.”

“I don’t know about that, but I am enjoying myself immensely, darling. Watching you watch me...” he said, eyes wandering up and down Crowley’s angular form, who was flushed and trying not to squirm. “Would you care for a bite?” Crowley nodded. He didn’t even reach for his own fork however. Aziraphale scooped up another bite, careful to include every part of the dessert and held it out. Crowley leaned forward and closed his mouth around Aziraphale’s fork. He let his tongue become forked and flicked it out of his mouth to tickle his fingers before drawing back and tasting the cake. It was rich and decadent, with floral notes curling through the chocolate. 

“Ssssinfully deliciousss,” he hissed, and Aziraphale shifted slightly, licking his lips. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one affected by the events of the evening. 

In a few more hedonistically enjoyed bites, the dessert was finished. Aziraphale payed the bill and helped Crowley to his feet. He bit his lip as the vibrating toy shifted inside him. 

“Perhaps while we walk,” he started breathlessly. 

“Of course, my dear boy,” said Aziraphale. He snapped his fingers, and the toy was gone. Crowley breathed out in relief. He was still rock hard, however, and he carefully held his jacket in front of him as they left the restaurant. 

The streetlamps had come on while they were inside, and a few of the brightest stars could be seen through the haze of the London lights. They linked arms as they walked, Aziraphale leading the way back toward Soho. They passed a gay bar, and two young men, one nearly shirtless, staggered out of the door, laughing, draped across each other as they navigated the treacherous landscape of the cracked sidewalk. One of them recognized Aziraphale and waved, wiggling his fingers and smiling. Aziraphale smiled back. 

“Go safely, Jamal,” he called as the two pairs headed off in different directions. One of them, presumably Jamal, could be faintly heard explaining to his companion that this was the Mr. Fell who had been so nice to him. 

“You’ve always like them, haven’t you? The uh...” Crowley trailed off, gesturing to the gay bar. “The... y’know.” 

“Yes, I suppose I have.”

“Any reason?”

“Perhaps I sympathize with being told that my love is wrong or dirty, when in fact it is no such thing,” said Aziraphale carefully. “And they’re so often abandoned by their families, you know. I’ve taken to comforting and assisting some of the people of this neighborhood. Besides, we certainly appear to be a gay couple, Crowley. You’re mostly man-shaped these days, after all, and I always am.”

“Yeah. I like ’em too,” said Crowley. They lapsed into comfortable silence, and the breeze picked up slightly. Crowley shivered slightly, and Aziraphale wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer as they walked. 


	2. Dolce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so much longer to write than I planned lmaoooooo

Aziraphale rummaged in his pockets for the keys to the bookshop then held them up triumphantly. He let them in, and as Crowley went inside he heard a snap, and that devilish little vibrator was back, humming merrily away. He paused in the middle of his swagger and bit his lip, trapping a whimper in his throat. 

“Something the matter, dear?” asked Aziraphale, unable to keep from smiling.

“Not at all, angel. It’s peachy keen, as you might say.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever uttered the phrase ‘peachy keen’ until now, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, almost reproachfully. 

“Sure, right,” muttered Crowley, focusing entirely on trying to walk without his knees buckling as they made their way across the bookshop and up the stairs to the flat above. Aziraphale led the way to their bedroom, looking smug, and opened the door for Crowley. The bed had been pushed against the wall, and there was a mattress on the floor, covered in a sheet of thick plastic. 

“I see you plan to have me _ thoroughly _ debauched by the end of the night, angel,” said Crowley, raising an eyebrow. 

“I certainly do. If you’re amenable, of course,” said Aziraphale, taking off his jacket and hanging it up carefully.

“Course,” Crowley echoed. Aziraphale rolled up his sleeves, revealing his thick forearms, dusted with golden hairs, and Crowley shivered slightly thinking what he might do to him with those soft, clever fingers which were currently occupied adjusting his cuffs. 

“If you could lie down for me, dearest,” said Aziraphale. Crowley awkwardly lowered himself to the mattress and lay down on his back. Every tensing of his abdominal muscles made his hole clench around the vibrator, and he was already fully hard again. Aziraphale snapped, and Crowley found himself stripped naked, spread out for the taking. Crowley let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling, itching to touch himself. He could hear Aziraphale set something on the ground, then shuffle some things around. Aziraphale turned off the vibrator, then removed the remote control ring from his finger. Crowley breathed out, relaxing back into the mattress as the vibrations ceased. He snapped his fingers, and a pillow appeared under his head.

“And what exactly are your plans for deflowering me?” said Crowley. 

“Deflower? Crowley, dear, we’ve had sex at least...” Aziraphale trailed off, muttering to himself. “Well, I’ve long since deflowered you, anyway. And you remember that conversation we had about getting you... full?” Crowley rested a hand on his taut stomach and shivered. 

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered. He remember the conversation quite vividly, and his cock pulsed in anticipation. 

“And you know how I enjoy dessert,” continued Aziraphale, appearing in Crowley’s field of view. He nodded and felt Aziraphale gently pulling at the tied off condom that kept the little bullet vibrator from going too deep. 

“ ’S a bit dry,” he muttered. Aziraphale daubed some lubricant around his hole and pulled again, easing the now-still vibrator out of him. A slick finger pressed into him and spread more lube around while Aziraphale’s other hand stroked up and down his thigh. 

“So, to that end, I’ve prepared, shall we say, a cream filling for you, dearest,” said Aziraphale. Crowley squirmed against the matress, pressing his feet to the floor. 

“Ffffuck, angel,” he whined, palming his cock briefly. 

“Yes?”

“Yessssss,” he hissed, spreading his legs wider. Aziraphale smiled and adjusted himself in his trousers. 

“Very well, then let’s begin,” he said calmly, sounding for all the world as though he were someone professional, a doctor or a masseur or something, instead of a man-shaped being about to _ thoroughly _ debauch his trembling lover. He produced a wedge pillow and slid his hand under Crowley’s arse, cupping his tailbone and lifting him easily to tuck the pillow under his hips, tilting his pelvis to the ceiling. Crowley adjusted himself until his was comfortable, then nodded slightly to Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale held up a piece of silicon, an enema nozzle, a little longer than his fingers and with a bulbous tip, shaped like a cockhead. He sucked the tip of it into his mouth, kissing it wetly between his pink lips, making Crowley grit his teeth in an attempt to stay quiet, then spread a generous helping of lube on it and pressed it against Crowley’s prepared hole. There was a moment of resistance, then his body accepted the intrusion, his rim winking shut around the narrower base. Aziraphale then produced what looked like a frosting bag with a short length of tubing instead of an icing tip. 

“Here we are, my darling,” said Aziraphale, and he squeezed a little out. It was white, thicker than cream, but more liquid than pudding. He licked it up, with that obscene tongue again. “Vanilla flavored,” he added. Crowley snorted with laughter.

“Ha, vanilla,” he chuckled. Aziraphale blinked at him, smiling but not understanding. 

“What?”

“Well, it’s, uh, plain ol’ regular sex without any...” he paused, waving a hand. “Accoutrements, it’s sometimes called vanilla sex.” Aziraphale chuckled. 

“Oh, I see. Quite amusing. Ready?”

“Yep,” said Crowley, popping the p. He felt the nozzle move slightly inside him as Aziraphale pressed the tubing inside and it clicked into place. 

Aziraphale took a deep breath, wrapped his fingers around the pouch and, gently a first, began to squeeze the sweet concoction into him. Crowley felt it flood inside him, thick and hot, a few degrees above body temperature, and as Aziraphale kept squeezing the bag, it oozed further in, deeper into Crowley’s not-entirely-anatomically-correct intestines.

“Fucking Hell,” he gasped, his fingers clenching against the plastic sheet. Aziraphale sat back a little, pausing. 

“Color?”

“Y-yellow,” said Crowley. Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the inside of his knee and simply touched him for a few moments, the warmth of his hands grounding him. “ ’S different than I was expecting, I guess.”

“Bad different?” said Aziraphale, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on Crowley’s thigh. 

“Nah, just different,” he muttered, taking carefully measured breaths. “Can I ask what the plan is once I’m... filled?”

“Well, my petite pâtisserie, I plan on... eating you out, as they say,” smirked Aziraphale, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Crowley whined and fisted his cock a few times, letting the mental images of his sloppy hole squirting pastry creme into Aziraphale’s eager mouth fill his mind. “Sound agreeable?”

“Ssso much more than agreeable, angel,” said Crowley, biting his lip. “Fuck, you’re a kinky bastard, you know that?”

“Of course, dear,” said Aziraphale mildly, patting his leg. “Do you want to continue?”

“Yeah,” said Crowley, letting his head rest back against the pillow. Crowley felt the nozzle shift inside him ever so slightly as Aziraphale picked the frosting bag back up, and then squeezed it, sending a rush of pastry creme inside him. He could feel it edging deeper inside him, warm and thick, filling long unused nooks and crannies of his corporation. It would have been painful for a human, being filled so quickly, but Crowley hadn’t thought of that. 

“Oh, look at you, my darling. You’re taking it so well,” murmured Aziraphale, adjusting his grip and squeezing the bag again. “I wonder if I could fill you like this with my cum. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweet thing?” Crowley groaned, thrashing his head back and forth, eyes shut, hands clenching. “Hmm. Being stuffed _ so _ full with my divine seed, claimed, owned, marked as mine and mine alone. My own pet slut.” Crowley shuddered at the words and placed his shaking hands on his stomach. With gentle, probing touches, he could detect the swell of his inflating intestines though the bulge in his slender frame. 

“Fuck, angel,” he managed. He flailed his hand, grasping for Aziraphale’s wrist and placing his hand on his heated skin. 

“Oh, good heavens,” muttered Aziraphale, caressing Crowley’s stomach. It looked rather like the demon had eaten a large meal and was relaxing, replete, ready to sink into a haze of digestive sleep. “Would,” Aziraphale paused and licked his lips. “Would you like more, dearest?” 

“Please,” gasped Crowley, his eyes screwed shut. Aziraphale flexed his fingers and squeezed once more, pushing more cream into Crowley’s body. Aziraphale could almost see, moment by moment, Crowley’s stomach growing larger and larger as the minutes passed until it rather looked like he’d swallowed a basketball. Crowley was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, the skin of his midriff red and strained, the bulge of the cream standing out starkly from his slender frame. His mouth hung open on shuddering gasps and broken little moans. 

“A–angel,” he managed. 

“Yes, darling?” said Aziraphale, pausing. “Do you need to stop?”

“ ’M full enough. Kiss me,” said Crowley, his voice a rasp. Aziraphale set down the icing bag and shuffled around to lie beside him, propping himself up on one elbow, and kissed Crowley, on his jaw, his neck, his forehead, his lips. “Feels so good, angel. So... so full, fucking Hell.”

“I should hope so,” said Aziraphale, smiling softly. 

“Shut up,” Crowley muttered breathlessly. Aziraphale smiled wider and pressed a kiss to his neck. 

“I love you too, my dear,” he said, skimming his hand down Crowley’s chest to brush feather-light touches over his distended stomach. “Good God, just look at you, Crowley. You could be pregnant with a belly like that.” Crowley whined again, and Aziraphale bent his head and licked one of Crowley’s nipples. “I don’t think that’s something we could really do, but would you like to pretend, sometime?”

“Angelll,” Crowley whimpered, winding his fingers in Aziraphale’s white gold curls. Aziraphale’s hand wandered past the bulge of Crowley’s stomach and wrapped around his cock, gently stroking the hard member. Crowley’s fingers twitched in his hair as Aziraphale’s fingers danced around his glans.

“And so, my darling, would you like to move on to the main course?” said Aziraphale, licking his lips. 

“Well, now you’re just mixing metaphors, angel. I thought I was dessert,” said Crowley breathlessly. Aziraphale looked miffed and squeezed his cock ever so lightly in reprimand. 

“In that case, my _ beloved_, would you prefer me to eat your arse now, or shall I wait a few minutes?” he said huffily. 

“Let’s hold off for now,” said Crowley, laughing lightly then catching his breath with a whine as the laughter squeezed his belly, making him feel fuller than ever. Aziraphale moved back between Crowley’s spread legs and detached the icing bag. He produced a thick silicone plug, covered in lube, and eased the nozzle out of Crowley’s hole, gently but quickly replacing it with the plug. A little cream had escaped, and Aziraphale swiped it up with his thumb and licked it clean. “You and your tongue, I swear,” said Crowley, glancing down the length of his body to watch his angel over the curve of his enlarged stomach. Aziraphale smiled and wiggled in self-satisfaction. 

“It’s been described as positively sinful,” he said smugly. Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and Crowley picked his head up off the pillow to see what had happened. Aziraphale was holding a squeezable plastic bottle of... chocolate sauce. “And I’m going to devour you, my dear,” he added, licking his lips slowly and deliberately. Crowley shuddered in anticipation and closed his eyes. Then there was the sensation of the warm, sticky sauce landing on his chest in a thick drizzle, coating his nipples before spiraling down to criss-cross his distended stomach. 

“Mmm, you’re looking... delectable. Filled with a luxurious pastry creme and topped with a rich chocolate sauce,” said Aziraphale with a smirk, putting the sauce bottle to the side. 

“What am I, an eclair?” joked Crowley, shivering slightly as he felt the sauce began to cool on his skin. 

“I’m sure you can be any pastry you want to be, my love,” said Aziraphale, and he licked a stripe across Crowley’s chest, smearing the chocolate sauce across his skin. Crowley hummed as Aziraphale set to work applying his tongue all over Crowley’s chest, sucking and licking at his nipples, drawing them one at a time into his mouth to nibble gently before releasing them with a pop. Crowley whimpered, his toes curling, and Aziraphale leaned up to kiss him soundly, tasting of chocolate. He nibbled his bottom lip before returning to his task of licking him clean. 

Crowley felt wet and sticky, the sugar and drool spreading across his chest as Aziraphale worked his way down. The stretched thin skin of his stomach was even more sensitive to the angel’s tongue, hot and wet, tracing the path of the chocolate sauce slowly, slowly. 

Aziraphale closed his lips around the head of Crowley’s cock, and Crowley screwed his eyes shut, biting his lip, head thrown back. Aziraphale dipped his head down, encasing Crowley’s cock in his throat, wrapping his lips around the base and sucking gently. Crowley whined, his fingers scrabbling against the plastic sheeting, and gasping as Aziraphale pulled off all at once. 

Aziraphale wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling quite proud of himself. He snapped his fingers, and a warm, damp cloth appeared in his hand. Crowley lay, unmoving, as he wiped the cloth across his chest, cleaning the last of the chocolate sauce from his skin. Aziraphale tossed the cloth back into the ether and rested a hand on Crowley’s thigh. Crowley smiled up at him and spread his legs, wiggling his hips slightly. 

“I think I’m ready for you to eat me out now, angel,” he said. 

“Oh yes? Because I’m positive ravenous,” smirked Aziraphale. “That little bit of chocolate sauce was merely an appetizer,” he added, tapping gently at the base of the plug. Crowley’s breath hitched, and he nodded. Aziraphale snapped his fingers, undressing himself, and knelt in front of Crowley’s spread legs. Crowley reached his hand around his stomach to hold his cock and sac out of the way, giving Aziraphale better access. 

Aziraphale bent his head and licked Crowley’s hole, stretched and pink around the plug, shiny with lubricant and now spit. He eased the plug out, and a little cream spurted out of Crowley’s winking hole, trailing down the crack of his ass. Aziraphale chased it with his tongue, then pulled Crowley’s cheeks apart and pressed his tongue flat against his hole. He wriggled the tip inside, and Crowley squirmed, sending more cream into his waiting mouth. 

“Ah, angel, I can’t hold it in anymore,” panted Crowley. Aziraphale rubbed a hand up and down his thigh comfortingly, then made a come-hither motion. Crowley released his pelvic muscles, and the pastry creme sprayed and gushed into Aziraphale’s mouth, and he swallowed and swallowed like a man dying of thirst, pressing his tongue as far inside Crowley as he could. It was a wonderful release, and Crowley moaned breathlessly—high, delicate sounds.

To Aziraphale’s delight, as Crowley’s stomach shrank, his own grew as he drank down the delicious cream. He rubbed his stomach appreciatively; the swell was less noticeable given his natural padding, but it stirred something inside him to be receiving such a bounteous gift from his lover. 

Finally, the pressure was released, the majority of the custard already in Aziraphale’s stomach. He raised his head, breathing deeply despite the fact that it wasn’t strictly necessary. Crowley groaned, shuddering, his fingers twitching, his cock almost purple with prolonged arousal. Aziraphale licked his lips but didn’t end up any cleaner, the whole lower half of his face drenched in cream and saliva. 

“Crowley, dear?”

“Mmm?” said Crowley, fighting through a haze of pleasure with great effort in order to respond. 

“Are you alright, darling?” asked Aziraphale.

“Mmm,” he answered, his eyes fluttering open.

“I need you to use your words, Crowley,” he said gently. “Do you want to keep going? You can just give me a color if that’s easier.” 

“ ’S green,” he managed. His brain had pleasantly turned to mush, and any thoughts more complex than that would just have to wait. 

“Would you like me to suck you off, dear?” said Aziraphale. Crowley shook his head. 

“ ’Nt you t’ f’k me,” murmured Crowley indistinctly. 

“You want me fuck you?” said Aziraphale. “You want me to fuck your sloppy hole while you leak your cream filling everywhere?” He slipped a finger into the aforementioned hole and stroked Crowley’s prostate. Crowley nodded, smiling, then moaned as Aziraphale fingered him. 

“Yesssss,” he hissed. Aziraphale shifted position, taking his cock in his hand. He pressed the tip against Crowley’s glistening hole, coated in cream. He marveled for a moment at the sheer indulgence of it all, then pushed inside with a wet squelching noise. Some of the remaining cream had squirted out around him, and Crowley moaned, his internal muscles gripping his angel’s beloved cock. 

“This is all very lascivious of you, Crowley. Mmmm, quite depraved,” said Aziraphale, slowly thrusting inside him. Each thrust caused a little more cream to leak out, dribbling down his ass to the plastic sheeting below. 

“Mmnph,” replied Crowley, who wanted to point out that this had been partially Aziraphale’s idea too, and that he had started it, but stringing more than two words together was asking too much of him at the moment. Aziraphale changed the angle of his thrusts, and Crowley threw his head back, each thrust pushing a wordless sound from his slack mouth. He wrapped his hand around Crowley’s achingly hard cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts until Crowley came with a wail, his whole body tensing. His hole clamped down around Aziraphale’s cock, and he came as well, adding his semen to mess of Crowley’s insides. 

They both lay there, still intertwined, breathing hard, for a long minute, before Aziraphale stretched up and pressed a loose kiss to Crowley’s cheek. Crowley hummed, cracking an eye open. 

“Hello, my darling,” said Aziraphale, smiling lazily. 

“Hello,” said Crowley, stretching slowly. 

“Shall I clean you up?”

“Yes, please,” he said, glancing down to the mess they’d made. It was a good thing Aziraphale had put down the plastic sheeting. The pastry cream had leaked and oozed everywhere, not to mention the bodily fluids. Aziraphale picked up the damp towel and wiped Crowley’s come off him, then ran the towel down the backs of his thighs and buttocks. 

“Ready?” he asked. Crowley nodded. Aziraphale snapped his fingers, vanishing the rest of the cream from both inside and out. He picked Crowley up and made a vague motion with one of his hands, and the bedroom rearranged itself back to its original configuration. He set him down on the bed and lay down beside him, pulling up the covers. 

“Well,” said Crowley. “That was... really good. I don’t think I’ll be able to walk anytime soon.” Aziraphale smirked, adjusting the blanket for maximum warmth retention. 

“No, probably not,” he said smugly. Crowley snaked his hand over to rub Aziraphale’s stomach, too well fucked to come up with a retort.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not super relevant to the work, but I love the idea of Aziraphale as the Soho gay cryptid and patron angel of us LGBT folk.
> 
> Please feel free to check out my website at https://kateglittoris.wordpress.com/


End file.
